Artist's Fingers
by DancingPetal
Summary: [SaiSaku Oneshot] He drew her again, he couldn’t help it. He simply needed to capture her emotions because he had the feeling that then he would finally understand. Finally understand what it was like to feel.


Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applied.

A/N: My first attempt at Naruto fanfiction as I'm quite into the series right now. I'm working on some other stuff when I find the time, but I won't put anything else up to as long as I haven't finished it – I don't want to disappoint you guys by taking ages to put up new chapters.

I didn't plan to write this oneshot, it just popped into my mind and I had to get rid of it, therefore it isn't very well planned. It's a spur-of-the-moment thing, really. So, take this as a warning.

* * *

**Artist's Fingers**

He saw her frowning over her large medicine textbook, bending over the pages and following the lines with her index finger. She didn't even notice him when he sat down across from her, watching her, interested.

She stared at the page, her eyes unmoving as if she was trying to figure something out. She absentmindedly pulled a strand of pink hair between her lips, tugging at it so that it reappeared, a little damp and a shade darker than before, then closed her lips around it once more, repeating the process, but still staring at the pages.

His fingers itched for his pencil which made him frown. He didn't sketch people or objects or anything of the sort. He only did abstract pictures. But this time, he was longing for a sheet of paper and a pen, unconciously clenching and unclenching his fingers while he gazed at her.

She eventually sighed, leaning back in her chair, shaking her head and rubbing her eyes. Then she smiled at him, apologizing for not acknowledging him before. "Sorry, Sai, I was just… I had to finish this line of thought, you know, or otherwise I wouldn't have understood anything."

He returned the smile while stealing a glance at the damp streak of petal pink hair that brushed her cheek. "It's okay, I understand. Is this book hard to read?" He was making his best attempt at a casual conversation with her so far.

She noticed that he hadn't been rude to her at all since he had arrived at the library and taken a seat at her table, hadn't insulted her and hadn't interrupted her. He didn't even make a move to throw unfriendly words at her now, so she kept the smile on her face, even letting it reach up to light up her eyes. "Well, it's not that hard to read, but there are no illustrations to add to the text and therefore it's hard to imagine some things, especially when the text is about cells and stuff. You can't really see them so an illustration would be helpful sometimes." She looked thoughtful for a moment, then laughed. "Sorry, I don't want to bore you. So, what are _you_ doing here?"

He looked down on the book in his hands, then placed it on the table for her to see. Her green eyes read the title and she looked up at him again, tilting her head in a friendly way. "So you're reading up on emotions again?"

"Yes, I still don't understand many of them."

"Well," she said after a short pause of thinking, "it's a complicated subject, I guess. It's good that you have the patience and the will to learn about them. It must be very exhausting."

He decided that he liked her unusual friendliness towards him and the fact that the smile that she usually reserved only for Naruto and Kakashi was directed at him this time. Could it have something to do with him not calling her 'hag'? He decided to try. "It's interesting to read about them, probably more so than your cell stuff, hag," he said, voice friendly and without any insulting tone about it.

She stiffened at the use of the familiar word, then sighed, her smile turning into one of exasperation. "Okay, there you go again. You're lucky I'm too tired to punch you." Result: It did have something to do with it.

"We're in a library. It wouldn't be very advisable for you to punch me here or you might get thrown out," he pointed out logically.

"Oh, stuff it, Sai," she replied, surprisingly without malice, but rather in the affectionate tone she only used for her friends. She rose, closing the giant book. "Ja ne."

He watched her as she walked away from the table and saw her shaking her head. When she turned around a corner, though, he could see her smile.

* * *

She was there the next day, too, seated at the same table with the same large book, bent over it again so that her red top had pulled up a bit to expose a few inches of the creamy white skin of her lower back.

He sat down across from her again, this time having brought his drawing utensils. He waited patiently for a few minutes for her to finish her passage. Predictably, she sat there staring at the page again.

A content feeling (he had already read about that) spread in the pit of his stomach as she reached for a streak of her hair to go through the absentminded process of pulling it through her lips. His eyes never left her face even as his pencil moved over the paper.

Her lips were slightly parted and he could see the slightest part of her teeth, every so often nibbling on the strand of hair. He tried to capture the darker shade of the part of the streak that passed through her mouth and the way it gracefully brushed her lower lip.

When she tore her eyes from the pages, seemingly waking from a kind of trance, he had already finished his sketch and was now slowly flipping through the book he had brought with him. He looked up at her and she smiled, "Here again?"

"Just like you," he answered, turning another page.

She propped her chin up on her hands, leaning her elbows on the table. "What are you reading about right now? Happiness? Despair?"

She looked sparkling, he noticed, with the way the sunlight from the windows caught in her hair, illuminating her skin and giving her eyes an abysmal depth that seemed to draw him to her until he was ready to drown in them. "Infatuation."

A smile appeare on her features, drawing his attention to her lips. "And did you already find someone you're infatuated with?"

Glancing at the book, he replied, "Maybe."

When he looked back at her, she had raised one of her elegant eyebrows in a good-naturedly playful fashion. "Who's it? Ino?" She grinned, eyelids lowering the tiniest bit.

He took his time to answer, returning her steady gaze with a lazy, half-lidded look and his usual smile. She didn't look away and her smile didn't falter, telling him that she was comfortable around him and he liked that. Eventually, he slowly curled his lips around the single word "no".

The amused twinkle in her eyes made his fingers itch for his pencil again, but instead of reaching for his sketchbook, he merely traced every line of her face with his eyes, engraving her expression in his mind to be drawn later, when he had more privacy and less chance to miss any of her moods.

It was then he realized that he needed no book to learn about emotions. Everything he needed was right in front of him.

* * *

When he entered the library again the next day, another picture of her had been added to his sketchbook. This time, she wasn't reading the large book, but rather a smaller one where she didn't feel the need to stare at the pages with a blank look.

She had an enlightened expression on her face when he sat across from her. A small smile was playing around the corners of her lips and her mouth was opened a bit. Her eyes were intently focussed on the book, her eyebrows moving ever so often, changing her expression from confusion to understanding, but the undertone of enlightenment never wavered.

He drew her again, he couldn't help it. He simply _needed_ to capture her emotions because he had the feeling that then he would finally understand. Finally understand what it was like to _feel_.

This time, she closed her book before he had finished the sketch, but it didn't bother him. He merely directed his gaze to the paper instead of her, her expression having been embedded in his mind easily and his artist's eyes having traced every curve and every bone and every shadow, molding the pencil strokes to form her unique features.

She waited patiently for him to finish his sketch, then asked him what he had drawn.

He thought about the answer for a moment, then said, "Expressions."

"Really?" Her eyebrows lifted in curiousity. "What kind of expressions?"

"Enlightenment," he replied, smiling. "Amusement. Concentration."

She blinked, then asked, "That for your emotions studies?"

Lowering his eyes to the sketchbook that she couldn't see, looking at the sketch of her, then lifting them back up to meet her eyes, he said, "I think so."

"That's great." She sounded genuinely happy for him. "Show them to me when you're finished?"

He studied her face, her expectant smile, her warm green eyes, then answered, "Of course."

* * *

Sketching her became like an obsession – and yes, he knew what an obsession was, he had looked it up. He not only drew her when they met in the library – it had become some sort of unspoken habit -, but also when they were training, meeting with their team, having lunch or dinner – anytime.

He had bought a new sketchbook, had added the older sketches to it and then had begun filling it with sketches of her. He had memorized her face already, knew every line, the soft curve of her lips or the way her eyes angled. He could see it with his inner eye whenever he wanted to, and sometimes even when he didn't want to see it.

He had even painted her once, turning a sketch into a coloured picture that stood now hidden in his apartment, leaned against his bedside table. It was the first sketch he had taken of her, banned onto canvas. He had spent a whole weekend without sleeping, trying to find the right mixture of colors to get the unique shade of her hair, her eyes or her skin.

Still, he hand't looked at it after he had finished it. It was just like his sketches. He knew exactly how every single one of them looked like, but he had not bothered to look over them again. Even after having drawn her so many times that his sketchbook was already three quarters full, he had the feeling that he hadn't reached what he was aiming for yet.

The most unsettling thing about it was that he didn't even know what it was that he was striving after, which was most unusual for him. It was a deep, longing desire that came from his innermost core, as if he was thirsty, but no matter how much he drank, it didn't get better.

What had started out with a simple sketch had developed into something uncontrollable, but in a positive way. The yearning within him wasn't dark or demonic, it was warm and bright, unsettling him and giving him peace at the same time.

Sometimes, when he was talking to her in the library, her green eyes warm and shining, he felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips that felt different from the one he had grown used to. It felt like it was ignated by her, as if hers was contagious and he simply couldn't help but return it. It was genuine.

When he smiled like that, he caught her with an odd look on her face that he couldn't quite place. It wasn't an uncomfortable one, it was pleasant, but he hadn't seen her look like this at him before. The only time when he had seen it was once when he had headed home late one night and had passed by her house. She had been awake, standing on the balcony, leaning against the railing and looking at something in her hands, a picture, it seemed.

But back then, he hadn't even stopped to greet her; it had been at the beginning of their acquaintance and he hand't really cared about her after his brain had noticed that she seemed healthy and not in the least injured.

It was different now. He wanted to know about every facet of her many emotions, wanted to see her expressions change. He watched how she laughed when Naruto made a joke or how she grinned affectionately at the blonde's bickering with Kakashi. He noticed how she stopped scowling at him every time she saw him, but instead smiled.

The change in her behavior towards him didn't go unnoticed by the others, and gradually, her influence caused a change in Naruto's treatment of him as well. He didn't get angry whenever he would tease him friendly, but would instead laugh and shoot back a comment.

And through all of this, he drew her whenever he got the chance to discover a new facet of emotion on her face.

* * *

He approached her with his sketchbook in his hands half a year after he had first felt the desire to draw her. She was sitting at their table in the library, head bent over the same large textbook he had seen her with six months ago.

This time, though, she looked up when he sat down, greeting him with a smile. "Hey, Sai. I had wondered when you'd arrive."

He didn't replied, simply smiled at her. Then he placed his sketchbook on the table, pushing it over to her. When she looked at him questioningly, he said, "You asked me to show you my sketches after I've finished them."

Her mouth formed an "oh", but she took the book nonetheless and opened it carefully. When she saw the sketch of herself, her eyes shot up to meet his, large and surprised. "You did a sketch of me?"

"Of your expression," he corrected.

She raised her eyebrows at his answer, shaking her head slightly. "Same thing," she muttered, before focussing on the sketchbook again, turning a page. This time, she didn't seek his gaze. However, he could see her features growing softer and softer with every page she turned.

Eventually, she had looked through each of his sketches, letting the book slowly sink to her lap, looking at him with the expression he couldn't quite understand. "They are beautiful, Sai. Thank you."

"I'm glad you like it." He was surprised to find that he really meant it.

She rose and tentatively stepped around the table till she stood next to him, pressing the sketchbook to her chest. He looked up at her, bangs moving with a slight rustle, then she kneeled and he had to lower his head.

She took his hand, smiling as she did so, then traced his fingers with her own. "They look just like everyone else's, but they are special, being able to create something so wonderful." Her eyes rose to meet his gaze, warm and green. "To be able to create beauty, to be able to bring other people happiness through beauty, is a powerful ability, Sai."

"To be able to create emotions within people is as well," he answered, his eyes never leaving hers.

He could see her eyes widen for the fraction of a second when she understood what he was saying, then she smiled and lifted his hand to place a kiss on his palm, leaving a tingling sensation. He wanted to touch her, so he raised his other hand, softly grazing her cheek with the tips of his fingers, marvelling at her warmth.

She closed her eyes, still smiling, and leaned into his touch as he lightly outlined the features he knew so well, brushing over her eyebrows, her slightly fluttering lids, her nose and her lips which opened under his fingers. "Sakura."

Her eyes opened, smiling their own smile for him. She carefully let go of his hand, reaching up to weave his fingers into his hair, then gently pulled his head down just enough to press her mouth to his. A shock of undefined emotion ran through him at her touch, surging through his body in warm, lazy waves as his eyelids dropped to a half-lidded gaze.

When she softly moved her lips under his, gently tugging at his lower lip, his mouth opened and he leaned into the kiss, the hand still near her face burying in her locks to pull her closer. He was overwhelmed by emotions he had never felt before, every single one of them caused by the woman in front of him.

It felt as if their mouths molded together and he could feel the heat radiating from her. As her tongue touched his, she seemed to transfer it to him, as his blood rushed through his veins like liquid fire. She smiled lazily under his lips, returning his half-lidded stare with clouded green eyes.

When she pulled back from his lips, she halted only centimeters from his mouth, breathing a little harder than usual, still not letting go of him. His thoughts seemed to have slowed to down to the point where he was only able to take in her features and nothing more, not even able to analyse what had just happened to him.

He felt her thumb brush through his hair and over his temple, her smile still lazy, but at the same time content. She seemed to consider saying something, but then decided against it and simply rose, pulling him up with her. Before he could react, she had put the sketchbook on the table and leaned against his chest, her arms circling around his neck.

Instinctively, he pulled her close to him, taking in the feeling of her warmth and realizing that he was tall enough that he could rest his chin on her head. Suddenly, the woman in his arms started to shake, making him look down on her form in mild surprise when he realized that she was laughing.

She lifted her head from his chest, looking up to him, still grinning. "You know, you could have just told me that you wanted to sketch me."

He frowned slightly. "I told you already, I didn't draw _you_, I drew your expressions."

"But why?" she asked, sounding exasperated despite the sparkle in her eyes.

"I had the feeling that that was all I needed to finally understand about emotions." He looked down at her thoughtfully. "I couldn't help it."

She smiled, lifting her hand to brush through his dark bangs. "I'm glad you couldn't. You know, I think that this might have helped you finally discover your emotions."

He didn't reply. It had taken him a moment, but now he had realized that the longing feeling inside of him had nearly vanished. He wasn't stupid, he knew that it had something to do with her. "Sakura, what does love feel like?" he asked out of nowhere, surprising her.

"Well," she said, thinking for a moment. "It's hard to describe. Love is… wanting to get to know someone, every part of them, wanting to share every memory, every smile, every pain with them. It feels like they touched your soul, touched you deep down inside, but you don't mind, because it means that they are a part of you. It feels like they taught you to feel, to live, to breathe, to –love."

"Ah." He nodded in understanding. "I guess that means that I love you."

The movement of her hand stopped abruptly and she stared at him. "You do?"

"If your description is true, then yes," he answered, not really getting why she was looking at him incredulously.

Her mouth opened, though she didn't say anything, just shook her head. Then, all of a sudden, she gave him a light punch to the chest. "You are such an idiot, Sai."

He frowned, looking mildly irritated down at her. "And why is that?"

She grinned, using both her hands to pull his mouth down on hers again, kissing him before mumbling against his lips, "Because you just could have said that."

He found it hard to listen to her while she was pressing her mouth to his, teeth scraping at his lower lip. When he pulled away once again, and stood on tiptoe, he simply moved his mouth to her jaw, not wanting to let her go yet. She laughed softly, her breath brushing his ear and making him shiver. "I love you, Sai."

She laughed again when his mouth reached the place where her neck started, just below her ear, and said, "But only if you promise to never call me hag again."

He moved his lips to rest next to her ear, pressing his cheek to hers to marvel in her warmth. "Promise."

A/N: Not that great of an entrance to the Naruto fandom, but my work will get better, I hope. I'm currently also working on another oneshot (pairing: SasuSaku). I think I'm going to work on my profile now, so if you guys want to know more about me, just check it.

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Oh, by the way, comments would be lovely. 


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